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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197227">Making of a King and Queen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintycandlelight/pseuds/Mintycandlelight'>Mintycandlelight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Assassination Attempt(s), Blood and Injury, Dark Brotherhood (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Death Threats, Developing Relationship, F/M, Feelings Realization, Galmar literally can't stop teasing these two, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Skyrim Main Quest, Sexual Content, Skyrim Civil War, Stormcloak aligned Dragonborn, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:27:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintycandlelight/pseuds/Mintycandlelight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Following on from the Stormcloak victory in Markarth and The Reach, the Dragonborn, Freyja Ice-Heart, goes to report of the success to Ulfric Stormcloak. </p><p>Her arrival in Eastmarch does not go as planned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ulfric Stormcloak, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ulfric Stormcloak, Female Nord Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ulfric Stormcloak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Poisoned blade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have been working on this for just as long as, if not longer than my Brynjolf and dragonborn fic... My original intention was to make it a long oneshot, but I've been so desperate to post it, I've decided to split it into a few chapters, and this is the first part!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Another fallen member of the family… This cannot do. We have a contract out for the life of this woman, yet it is her who kills those we send!”</p>
<p>“I do have a suggestion, though you are free to say whether you agree with this or not… Perhaps, rather than sending one… We send many. Our target can clearly win in a one-on-one battle, so perhaps we should aim to overwhelm by numbers.”</p>
<p>“Hmm… Interesting. Perhaps you are onto something there. However, I want our next attempt to be our last. The last Dragonborn shall die at the hands of the Dark Brotherhood.”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>- 10<sup>th</sup> of Hearthfire, 4E 203 - </strong>
</p>
<p>Pulling her cloak over her shoulders as she began to feel the familiar cold of Eastmarch surrounding her, Freyja Ice-Heart let out a small sigh. She had just finished another successful mission to reclaim one of the Imperial holds for the Stormcloaks, and was now on her way to report to Ulfric of the success. Having Markarth and The Reach on their side was a major victory, as it meant that they were a step closer to taking Solitude and achieving their aim of reclaiming Skyrim for the Nords.</p>
<p>She couldn’t wait for the day to come where this war would come to an end. She had already defeated the World-Eater himself, and though dragon appearances had decreased, she knew that they likely wouldn’t ever end. However, the end of the war would mean that she would finally be able to settle down somewhere, possibly even think about things such as a family – not that she found it completely necessary to have one, she would be more than happy with her independence, and she knew she would always have a family in her kinsmen and fellow Stormcloaks.</p>
<p>In the horizon, the silhouette of Windhelm began to appear, and she began to feel much more comfortable. The city was beginning to feel like home for her, with how familiar she was becoming with its citizens, and how often she would interact with Ulfric. The Jarl himself had told her to speak to Jorleif if she wished to acquire a home in the city... Perhaps she would have to take him up on that. She did own a home in Whiterun, as well as a small plot of land with a simple house in the Pale, though she hardly spent as much time in those as she did Windhelm.</p>
<p>As she continued down the path, movement suddenly caught her eyes. When she realised what was happening, she pulled out her axe and ran forward to intervene. It was a young girl being chased by a pack of wolves!</p>
<p>“S-Save me, lady-!” the girl screamed as she got closer to her. Freyja quickly got between the girl and the wolves and prepared to fight them off.</p>
<p>Once the animals were dead, she returned her axe to her side, then turned to face the girl. “Are you okay? What are you doing out here? It’s dangerous without an adult when you’re so young...”</p>
<p>The girl sniffled, and rubbed at her eyes. “I was with my family, but we were attacked... I got separated from them and then- then the wolves started chasing me...”</p>
<p>Freyja bit her lip as she looked at the girl, before resting her hand on her shoulder. “Then let's get you back to your family... What’s your name? I'm Freyja.”</p>
<p>“Y-You have the same name as the D-Dragonborn!” the girl gasped, which was followed by her taking hold of her hand. “M-My name is Babette...”</p>
<p>“Well, Babette... I'll let you in on a little secret. I <em>am</em> the Dragonborn.”</p>
<p>Babette's eyes widened in amazement as they began to walk on the path towards Windhelm, as Freyja began to tell little tales of battles against dragons and adventures across Skyrim that she had experienced.</p>
<p>Eventually, when they were approaching the stables, Freyja could hear calling of Babette's name.</p>
<p>“Mama! Papa! You’re safe!” Babette shouted once two people came into sight, and she ran over to them with a smile on her face. “The Dragonborn saved me!”</p>
<p>The woman looked towards Freyja, and a faint smile formed on her face. “You saved our daughter... I cannot thank you enough, Dragonborn...” She walked over to her, leaving Babette with the man who was also there. “We do not have much left after the bandit attack, but please...” The woman pulled out a dagger which was by her side. “Take this.”</p>
<p>Freyja did not expect to the woman to plunge the dagger through her leather armour, or the sudden pain which erupted from the wound.</p>
<p>To make matters worse, she then saw Babette’s eyes glow red as she raised her hand and began to cast some sort of magic which drained her of her energy. And the man began to turn... furry.</p>
<p>It was at this point that Freyja realised just who this ‘family’ was, and she gasped it between laboured breaths as she held her hand against the wound. “Dark... Brotherhood-!”</p>
<p>“Clever thing. Now, why don’t you just die quietly here before I ask my husband to slice off that pretty little head of yours with his claws?”</p>
<p>She glared at her attackers, before gritting her teeth. “<em>Never.</em>”</p>
<p>“Arnbjorn!”</p>
<p>“<em>Wuld-Nah-Kest-!”</em></p>
<p>Freyja began to try and run towards the bridge leading into Windhelm after shouting her way past the assassins, though she was beginning to lose her footing. It was then that she came to the late realisation that the dagger she had been stabbed with had been poisoned.</p>
<p>As soon as she could, she used Whirlwind Sprint again, just to create distance. All she needed was to get past Candlehearth Hall, then she would be surrounded by her fellow Stormcloaks who could buy her time to heal the painful wound.</p>
<p>As she ran (or rather, stumbled) through the city, pushing past the likes of Captain Lonely-Gale and Nilsine Shatter-Shield, a large shadow was jumping and running across the nearby walls and buildings. She knew that it was that Arnbjorn, the werewolf, and that he was trying to get ahead of her to intercept her and no doubt finish her off.</p>
<p>It was at that point that Freyja used her last resort, a shout she had learned early on but hated using as it felt cowardly when in battle... But she had a war to help end, and by The Nine, she was not going to let her death be anywhere but in a battle for her home, <em>especially </em>not at the hands of assassins.</p>
<p>“<em>Feim-Zii-Gron!”</em></p>
<p>As her body turned almost ghostly, she watched as that Arnbjorn stopped on one of the buildings. He had clearly been caught by surprise by her turning ethereal, as he wouldn’t be able to hurt her no matter what he did.</p>
<p>During these precious few seconds where she couldn’t feel the pain of her wound or the poison, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her towards the Palace of the Kings.</p>
<p>Once inside, the effect of her shout wore out, and she sank to the ground letting off a loud wail as the pain returned with full force. Much to her surprise, the one she had been seeking was stood right before her.</p>
<p>“I heard your shouts from in here, Dragonborn. What has happened?”</p>
<p>She looked up at the Jarl as her vision began to blur.</p>
<p>“Jarl Ulfric... The Reach is- is ours... And... Dark Brotherhood... Trying to kill... me...”</p>
<p>And then… everything faded to darkness.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Ulfric, was usually not fazed at hearing the use of a shout, especially after the years he had spent with the Greybeards at High Hrothgar. If anything now, it allowed him to know that the only other person in Skyrim who held the power of a Thu’um was nearby, and considering that she had been away from Windhelm fighting to take back The Reach, her presence was sign of a victory.</p>
<p>What he was not expecting was hearing another shout – one which was much louder than the previous two – which was one he had only heard of from the Greybeards, and was never taught. The shout to turn ethereal. He knew that it allowed one to not be harmed, but in return, they too could not touch or feel. If the Dragonborn was having to use such a shout, when she too was a proud Nord such as himself… That indicated that perhaps not all was well.</p>
<p>Ignoring Jorleif as he began to ask what was going on, Ulfric rose from his throne and began to make his way towards the doors of the Palace of the Kings, hand moving closer to his sword just in case he needed to use it.</p>
<p>Before he could reach out for the doors, he was surprised to see the doors swing open in his direction as the Dragonborn began to return to her physical form. A horrific yowl of pain escaped her lips as she fell down to the ground before him, her hand pressing against her abdomen, and blood coating her fingers. He was almost taken aback by how panicked she seemed.</p>
<p>As he spoke to the woman, he made a gesture to Jorleif to seek out a healer. “I heard your shouts from in here, Dragonborn. What has happened?”</p>
<p>Her gaze went up to him, and he noticed that she seemed to be having great difficulty focussing on him. “Jarl Ulfric…” Her voice was also greatly strained – clearly what had happened was no mere accident or bandit attack. “The Reach is- is ours… And…” And in spite of her clear pain and discomfort, she prioritised informing him of their victory. As much as he was proud of the Dragonborn herself being a true daughter of Skyrim, he could not believe she was pushing herself to pass on this message. “Dark Brotherhood… Trying to kill…” She slumped down onto the floor, unable to keep herself sat upright any longer. “Me…”</p>
<p>“Freyja?” He knelt down and rested his hand on her forehead, and noticed that she was burning up and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. A clear sign of poison<em>. Of course underhanded cowards such as the Dark Brotherhood would use poison. </em>“Jorleif! Hurry up with that healer, the Dragonborn is dying!” He then glanced towards the guards stood by the door, who didn’t seem to know what to do. “Look for the assassin! Anyone suspicious, any stranger to Windhelm, find them and take them to the dungeons!”</p>
<p>Her breathing was shaky and her body trembling from where she was lay bleeding on the floor, and Ulfric scowled. If it were the Dark Brotherhood after her, in his mind there was almost no doubt that it could have been an enemy of Skyrim who had carried out the Black Sacrament to kill her. It was her presence amongst their ranks which had allowed for the Stormcloak Rebellion to truly take off, as she was close enough to the Jarl of Whiterun to pass along his axe and his message. No doubt it was the likes of General Tullius, or perhaps one of the Thalmor – Elenwen no doubt – who had done the ritual.</p>
<p>“Jarl Ulfric, the best I have been able to do is get hold of some potions from Wuunferth, though he said he does know basic restoration magic if needed.”</p>
<p>A growl escaped the Jarl as he rose to his feet once more. “Jorleif, I trust you to keep her alive. Find a room for her to rest in. I am going to look for this assassin.”</p>
<p>“Yes, my Jarl.”</p>
<p>Leaving Freyja in trusted, capable hands, Ulfric angrily made his way out of the Palace of the Kings, and began to look around. Straight away, he felt as though he was being watched, and his gaze went over to the roof of Candlehearth Hall. On top of it was… a werewolf. Instinctively, he knew that the creature <em>had </em>to have been the assassin.</p>
<p>Being unable to attack from this distance, he resorted to using his Thu’um, though the creature jumped to avoid the unrelenting force. However, before he could do anything more, he saw it moving to exit the city.</p>
<p>Then he realised what was going on… The assassin believed that as he had stormed out of the Palace, Freyja had passed on. Her blood was on his hands and clothes, after all.</p>
<p>With a scowl on his face, he returned into the palace and let out a deep breath when he saw the patch of blood next to where he was stood. But then, an idea came to his mind.</p>
<p>If they believed that the Dragonborn was dead, then he was going to let them think that she was dead until the time came for the war to end. It would make things all the sweeter with a Stormcloak victory. Already they held seven of the nine holds, and they could easily take Hjaalmarch without needing Freyja – but if she had recovered by the time that it came to taking Solitude… He knew that he would relish the look on General Tullius’ face as he is brought to the blade for his crimes against Skyrim, with the Dragonborn on the winning side.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> - 14<sup>th</sup> Hearthfire, 4E 203 - </strong>
</p>
<p>Small beams of sunlight were cast into the room where Freyja had been left to rest and recover from her wounds. She was lucky to have avoided anything vital being damaged because of where she had been stabbed, though that hadn’t stopped the poison from wreaking havoc on her body. As a Nord, she already had pale skin – this had just made her even paler, if not almost translucent. Her body would tremble, and a terrible fever had taken over.</p>
<p>Ulfric, if he had the opportunity, would have reached out to any family or relatives which she had across the realm to inform them of the dire state which she was in, though it was at this point that he realised that he knew very little of the woman. He knew of her name, that she was a Nord, Skyrim was her homeland, and that she had been absent from the country until the moment she had been captured alongside him and his soldiers as she crossed the border.</p>
<p>He knew it would be possible to find any relatives using her name, though he had heard of nobody sharing the same surname as her. <em>Ice-Heart. </em>Perhaps it was possible that she had no living family so to speak of, aside from that of their kinsmen. The best he had been able to do with regard to reaching out was corresponding with her housecarl in Whiterun, but even that had come up with nothing.</p>
<p>For now, he would allow her to heal and recover in the Palace of the Kings, and upon her waking, she could rely upon everyone there (or at least those informed that she was, in fact, alive) for if she needed anything.</p>
<p>But… that would be so long as she <em>did </em>wake up. Though an antidote to the poison had been administered, it had been able to spread rapidly across her body and she could still easily succumb in such a weak state.</p>
<p>“Unh…” A small noise escaped the Dragonborn as her hand twitched slightly. From his seat in the corner of the room, he watched her some more, unsure on as to whether this was her waking up, or writhing in pain as she slept.</p>
<p>Once this war is over, the Dark Brotherhood will pay for what they have done. Of that, Ulfric was certain.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> - 23<sup>rd</sup> Hearthfire, 4E 203 - </strong>
</p>
<p>Almost two weeks had passed, and Freyja remained unconscious.</p>
<p>For obvious reasons, Ulfric was unable to watch over her at all times – he was a Jarl and had a duty to his people, and as a leader he was having to prepare for the invasion of Hjaalmarch. As such, he had called for the only person that he knew could not be an assassin in disguise to keep an eye on her on times that he could not – her housecarl from Whiterun, Lydia. The woman was loyal to her thane, just as her thane was loyal to Skyrim.</p>
<p>She had been present in Windhelm for about one week by that point, but was proving herself an asset with how thorough she was in the Dragonborn’s care. She had even brought some of the woman’s belongings from Whiterun to make her comfortable, and something to wear other than badly fitting clothing donated from the staff of the Palace.</p>
<p>Freyja, however, did not know of this arrangement.</p>
<p>“My thane… My thane, can you hear me?”</p>
<p>As her senses began to return to her, sound is what Freyja picked up on first. She could hear her pulse in her ears, and a throbbing in her head as the familiar voice called out to her. A name was somewhere in her mind, but things were too hazy for her to figure out just who it was.</p>
<p>“My tha- Freyja… Are you returning to us? Please give a sign that you are…”</p>
<p>Her throat was… dry. So incredibly <em>dry. </em>But in spite of that, her face was drenched in sweat.</p>
<p>It took a lot of energy to open her eyes even slightly, just enough for small blotches of light to appear in her limited vision. “Wa… ter…” Her hands twitched slightly as she tried to feel around for where she was, but all she found were soft downs and almost velvet-like sheets.</p>
<p>“I will get you some water, my thane… Just stay resting until I return. I will be back as soon as I can.”</p>
<p>Freyja did not hear Lydia leave the room, as she was now focussing on the heartbeat which was echoing around her. It was so persistent, and like a bard’s drum. <em>Thump, thump, thump. </em>She hadn’t heard it so loudly before, but she felt some semblance of relief that she could. It was a sign that she was alive.</p>
<p>Once more, she had defied the Dark Brotherhood… Once more, she had defied the odds against her, and lived.</p>
<p>After a few minutes of focussing on the sounds, her eyes drifted shut again, though she remained awake. The light was hurting her eyes.</p>
<p>Then she heard the door, and a small sigh. “My thane… Are you still awake? I have your water for you…”</p>
<p>
  <em>Lydia. That’s why the voice was so familiar.</em>
</p>
<p>A small whisper of thanks left the Dragonborn’s lips as she heard the goblet of water be placed on a wooden surface, before a steady pair of hands held onto her arms to help her move into an upright position. The cold of the goblet was pressed against her lips afterwards, and she parted her lips slightly to take a small sip of the water.</p>
<p>After having some water, she coughed, before having to lie back down. It took far too much energy to have remained upright, though at least she felt much more… awake than previously.</p>
<p>“Ly…dia… Why are you…? Where are…?”</p>
<p>For a moment there was silence, before Lydia gave off a small sigh. “Do you recall what happened to you?”</p>
<p>Freyja let off a small, pained wheeze as just the mere thought of what had happened made her remember the wound she had received, and her mind focussed in on the pain she was feeling in her abdomen. “Dark… brotherhood.”</p>
<p>“Well… Jarl Ulfric said that you collapsed as you arrived here. He tried to reach out for any family you may have had to inform them of what had happened to you, but as he couldn’t find anyone, he contacted me. A few days later… he asked for me to come to Windhelm, to help with your recovery. I have been here for… about one week now. You have been asleep for almost two.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Two… weeks. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Two weeks she had been out of action.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She should have been out taking another hold, not resting up in Windhelm-!</em>
</p>
<p>“I’ve known you long enough to know that you are worrying about what you could have been doing whilst you have been healing, my thane. Do not worry – Jarl Ulfric asked that I inform you once you wake up that you have no official duties to carry out for the Stormcloaks aside from healing and recovering your strength.”</p>
<p>“But…”</p>
<p>“There is no ‘but’ about it, my thane. Now, you rest – I have something which I must do quickly. Your water is to your left on a table, should you need it whilst I am gone.”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aye, and once we have taken Fort Snowhawk, we will take control of Hjaalmarch and Morthal. We will be right on the Imperial milk-drinkers’ doorstep.”</p>
<p>“Galmar, remember that you will not have the Dragonborn with you in this battle. You must think very carefully about where your men are sent, as you will not have a Thu’um to aid you. No recklessness. If necessary, take out as many soldiers as you can from a distance.”</p>
<p>“I know, I know – the more men we have for when we take Haafingar and Solitude, the better. And… Hmph. Ulfric, we seem to have a visitor.”</p>
<p>From where the Jarl of Eastmarch was sat around his map table alongside Galmar, finalising their next steps in progressing the war across Skyrim, he looked up to realise what his housecarl was referring to.</p>
<p>“Ah, Lydia. You have good timing, Galmar and I were just finished here,” Ulfric stated, giving Galmar a look as if to say it was time for him to leave. With a huff, he got up from the table and walked away, muttering under his breath as he did so. “How is the Dragonborn faring? Clearly something must have changed if you have sought me out.”</p>
<p>A small frown formed on her face as she turned towards the stairs. “My thane has finally woken up. I believe that she is concerned about being out of action, and I have a feeling that she will only acknowledge her orders to rest and recover if it comes from you directly, Jarl Ulfric.”</p>
<p>“Ever a stubborn woman, that Freyja…”</p>
<p>“Pardon?”</p>
<p>Ulfric glanced over at Lydia, and saw that her eyebrow was raised at his previous words. “It is nothing. I shall relieve you of your watch of the Dragonborn, go and get some rest. I must speak with her in private anyway.”</p>
<p>Dismissing Lydia from the room, in the direction of the grand hall which was preparing for the evening mealtime, Ulfric began to make his way up the stairs leading towards the room which had been granted to Freyja during her recovery.</p>
<p>Though he knocked on the door to alert her to his presence, he did not wait for any sort of response before entering. He frowned when his eyes fell upon her, as she was trying to move to get off the bed in spite of her clear lack of energy.</p>
<p>“What do you think that you are doing?”</p>
<p>She fell down onto the bed once she heard his voice, and a small groan escaped her lips. “Shouldn’t… be here…” He watched as her hand then moved to where she had been stabbed, a clear sign that it was hurting her. “Stormcloaks… need…”</p>
<p>“What the Stormcloaks need-“ Ulfric approached the bed, and frowned as she tiredly glanced up at him. “-is for you to rest. You are not going anywhere near the front lines until you have fully recovered. Those are your orders. If I must, I will make it so you cannot leave the Palace of the Kings until I have cleared you for combat myself.”</p>
<p>“Respectfully, Jarl Ulfric…” Freyja did her best to sit upward in the bed, but only just managed to prop herself up on her elbows, with the golden braids of her hair falling behind her shoulders as she did so. “I… disagree.”</p>
<p>Ulfric tutted, and shook his head. “I admire your dedication to the cause, Freyja. However, I will not have the Dragonborn die in my name when she is frail and recovering from an assassination attempt. Understand?”</p>
<p>She looked up at him, let out a shaky breath, then bit her lip. “I… understand…” Then, she lay back down, which is when he suddenly felt her shaky hand – it was so cold – brush against his. “You… know my name…”</p>
<p>“Of course I know your name. You are Freyja Ice-Heart, the Last Dragonborn, saviour of Skyrim and slayer of Alduin,” he stated, noticing how a small smile spread across her lips in addition to a few tears slipping down her face as he used her full name.</p>
<p>She then closed her eyes, as though she was falling asleep once more, as she spoke a few more words. “I am… always addressed by what I am… never by name… You’re one of the first… Ulfric…”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> - 29<sup>th</sup> Hearthfire, 4E 203 - </strong>
</p>
<p>In the days following on from his conversation with her, Ulfric couldn’t help but think about how it had ended. Had that many people called her ‘Dragonborn’ that just hearing her name being used for a change was enough to bring her to tears?</p>
<p>Then again, he had witnessed it first-hand. Even though she had given her name back in Helgen, the Imperial Captain only ever referred to her as ‘The Nord in the Rags’. The soldier with the list would call her ‘Prisoner’. And here, in Windhelm – Lydia would only ever say ‘My Thane’, whilst citizens referred to her as ‘Dragonborn’. To Galmar, she was just ‘Soldier’ (in spite of her being an officer like him).</p>
<p>He had to admit, he had been complicit in addressing her as such too, but she was, for all purposes, a Nordic hero of legend. Someone worthy of having their name remembered for the remainder of history! And so, he decided that from there on, he would do his best not to call her by ‘Dragonborn’ or any such title. He was going to call her by her name.</p>
<p>“Lydia… I don’t need help walking, I can manage,” her familiar voice called out from the room bearing the war table. From where he was sat on his throne, Ulfric sighed – she had accepted that she was not to be going out to battle, or leave the palace, though she had remained stubborn with <em>how </em>she recovered. As soon as she was able to sit up, she was insistent on standing and walking independently. She was not accepting any help, and was trying to get through it all herself.</p>
<p>Almost <em>expecting</em> trouble from her, he left his throne and walked over to the doorway, just in time to catch Freyja as her legs gave in beneath her.</p>
<p>“What do you think that you are doing, Freyja? I told you not to push yourself as you recover.”</p>
<p>“I’m hungry. I can’t be expected to regain my energy with the meagre rations that are being sent up to my room!”</p>
<p>Ulfric could only laugh at her words – it seemed that her appetite was just as great as her stubbornness. “Then come, sit out here. There is more than enough food which was prepared not too long ago.”</p>
<p>“Jarl Ulfric, is it not best that my thane returns to her room?”</p>
<p>“Nonsense, Lydia. If Freyja wishes to eat, then allow her to eat. I see no harm in her being allowed free roam of the palace whilst recovering.”</p>
<p>Much to his surprise, unlike what he had heard mere moments earlier, Freyja allowed him to assist her into the great hall where his throne was situated. It appeared that Lydia was unhappy with this change in attitude of the Dragonborn, but the Jarl knew what brought it on… She was getting closer to what she wanted – food.</p>
<p>It was quite the surprise to see just how hungry she was once she was sat down at the long table. Her hands were clearly shaking – a terrible after-effect of being poisoned and not moving for a good part of two weeks – though she had a great, beaming smile on her face when she managed to take hold of something to eat. In particular, she seemed drawn to the fruit, cheeses, and breads available. Food which was easy for her to eat without cutlery.</p>
<p>After about half an hour, of which about fifteen minutes in Lydia left to do something elsewhere, Freyja took a deep breath and looked towards Ulfric, who was once more sitting on his throne. “I have a question… Since the day that I woke up… You’ve only addressed me by my name. Why?”</p>
<p>The corner of Ulfric’s lips turned upward at her question. “It appeared to mean a lot to you, being called by your name for a change. You are a hero to Skyrim, and you deserve to hear your name go down in history.” He looked at her for a few moments, noticing the slight hint of uncertainty in her face. “You have more than proven yourself to me, as both a Stormcloak and loyal daughter of Skyrim. It is the least I can do.”</p>
<p>“Thank you…”</p>
<p>“Why are you thanking me?”</p>
<p>“You are right – it does mean a lot to me to be called by name rather than what I am for once… And for it to be you who has chosen to do so, it means so much more to me. So thank you, Ulfric…”</p>
<p>After she had said her piece, Freyja rested her hands on the table to push herself upward, and began to make small, quivering steps towards the stairs which led to her current room. Ulfric was about to stand up to help her, but she held up her hand to tell him that she wanted to do it herself. He mentally chuckled at her stubbornness, though outwardly he sighed and shook his head as she sank down onto one of her knees as a result of her still-healing stab wound.</p>
<p>Approaching the woman, he spoke once more. “At least allow me to take you where you are wanting to go. If I had not insisted you be allowed to eat here, your housecarl would still be here to assist.”</p>
<p>With a quiet whine, in addition to a few curses under her breath, Freyja accepted the arm which Ulfric held out for her. She did her best to walk just using his arm, but eventually she had to lean against him in order to remain upright.</p>
<p>“Hah! Be careful who sees you like that with the Dragonborn, Ulfric! You’d give off the impression that you’re courting the woman!”</p>
<p>Both Ulfric and Freyja turned their attention towards the doors of the palace, and much to the surprise of both of them, Galmar was walking in with a smug grin across his face. Neither of them knew that the grin was because of her red face and his foul frown.</p>
<p>“Galmar – <em>what </em>are you doing here? Should you not be on your way to Hjaalmarch by now?!”</p>
<p>“Oh, relax – I’m moving out with the soldiers this afternoon. Ralof is keeping them all on their toes in preparation for the journey. I just had to come back for my maps, though it seemed that I returned during an-” Galmar proceeded to make a vague gesture in their general direction. “-unfortunate moment.”</p>
<p>Freyja huffed loudly. “I can barely walk, Galmar! Jarl Ulfric offered to escort me back to my room.”</p>
<p>She had, unknowingly, made the awkwardness of the situation even worse, as Galmar was now laughing like a madman.</p>
<p>“Well, don’t let an old man like me keep you both then!”</p>
<p>“Galmar, just focus on the task at hand and take Hjaalmarch.”</p>
<p>“Of course, Ulfric. And I’ll leave you to focus on the Dragonborn.”</p>
<p>“<em>Fus!”</em></p>
<p>Ulfric was taken aback when Freyja resorted to shouting at Galmar to get him to be quiet, though was thankful that he had only been knocked onto his backside rather than killed. It seemed that using her shout had also managed to make the pain she was feeling from her wound worse, as her grasp of his arm tightened, and she was leaning against him even more.</p>
<p>They took the moments that Galmar was trying to snap himself out of the daze he had found himself in to continue returning her to her room.</p>
<p>As they made their way up the stairs at a considerably slow pace, Ulfric found himself asking her a question. “Is that your first time using your Thu’um since the attack, or have you used it already?”</p>
<p>“I’ve… been trying to use it. I was practicing using a shout to disarm with Lydia’s assistance, but it just hurt too much to use properly,” she explained, before taking a deep breath. “But then, last night… I couldn’t sleep too well, and the fireplace in my room went out. So… I decided that I’d try again with my fire breath shout. It took a few tries, but I managed to re-light it. The shout wasn’t as strong as it usually is, but I know I can use it again now… I had been wanting to try out my Unrelenting Force shout too, but didn’t want to make a mess… And Galmar made himself a prime target to practice on.”</p>
<p>Ulfric chuckled at her reasoning for using Galmar as a target, even though he knew that really he should have reprimanded her for doing that to a fellow Stormcloak. He agreed entirely though, Galmar did have it coming for the way he had been teasing.</p>
<p>“Hah, though perhaps next time you should give me a word of warning if you are going to shout at my second-in-command, Freyja.”</p>
<p>“Next time? You mean that I can keep shouting at him?”</p>
<p>Another laugh left the Jarl at the excitement in her voice. “No, I would prefer for that not to happen again… but if it does, let me know first.”</p>
<p>Freyja continued laughing quietly until they both reached her room, which is when she sighed. “I can handle myself from here, I think. I’m probably going to go to lie down again…” She whispered, pushing open the door as she separated herself from Ulfric.</p>
<p>Just to make sure that she managed to safely lie down, he remained in the doorway until she sat on the edge of the bed. It was then that he noticed an empty plate on the side of the bed, and remembered something which she had said earlier.</p>
<p>“What exactly is being brought up for you to eat, Freyja? I recall you calling it ‘meagre rations’ earlier.”</p>
<p>“The occasional piece of fruit, some bread and water too. It’s… <em>enough</em>, I admit that, but it feels very minimal.”</p>
<p>“What foods do you like?”</p>
<p>“Um… Sweet rolls are nice, and I do like the occasional bit of cheese with a meal too…”</p>
<p>“I can arrange for that.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to… If you do, I feel that I am going to end up owing you a great deal once I’ve recovered, Ulfric…”</p>
<p>“Nonsense. Now, rest.”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Nightfall had quickly crept up on Windhelm, blanketing the city in darkness. Everything was quieter than usual at the moment, with the soldiers who would usually be drinking at the Candlehearth Hall currently marching towards Morthal, and the citizens having all gone to bed for the night.</p>
<p>Even the Palace of the Kings was eerily quiet, with only one room still lit up. That room was Ulfric’s, and he was being kept awake by a restless mind. He knew that Galmar had been teasing earlier, though his words had, unfortunately, stuck with him since. Did he honestly believe that with the way he was having to assist the injured woman to the room, that it looked as though he could have been courting her?</p>
<p>
  <em>No, that would surely be some sort of conflict of interest… The Jarl of Eastmarch in a relationship with the Dragonborn whilst a civil war was ongoing, and he was aiming to become High King? That would come across as him manipulating her to join the Stormcloaks, even though it was a decision which she made herself…</em>
</p>
<p>The only noise in his room aside from the crackling of the fireplace was that of his feet pacing back and forth over the stone floors, his mind going in a million and one different directions.</p>
<p>In spite of everything, he knew that he was going all… soft around her. Of course, it did stem from seeing her collapse in front of him after the Dark Brotherhood attack, and the fear of the Dragonborn dying on his doorstep… But even so, he had started addressing her by name, found himself thinking of her at times where he needed his attention elsewhere, and was giving her favourable treatment…</p>
<p>As he sat down on his bed, he ran his hands through his hair with a quiet growl.</p>
<p>Galmar. The man knew him better than he almost knew himself. And he <em>knew</em>, even though no such words had left his mouth, or any thoughts went through his mind.</p>
<p>Ulfric Stormcloak liked Freyja Ice-Heart.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> - 11<sup>th</sup> Frostfall, 4E 203 - </strong>
</p>
<p>“Careful, my thane… You need to get used to the weight of your axe again before you can go around swinging it again,” Lydia stated, taking the heavy weapon out of Freyja’s hands as they stood outside the Palace of the Kings in a courtyard towards the back, where the two of them were beginning to train up Freyja’s capability with a weapon once more. It had been little over a month since the Dark Brotherhood attack, and the dragonborn was growing restless at not being able to fight. “Perhaps it would be best if you work your way up to using a battle axe again. Start with a dagger, advance to a war axe, and finally a battle axe. It can help you build up your strength.”</p>
<p>“I guess so… My main concern isn’t weapons or how much they weigh though, it’s whether my injury will flare up again, or if the Dark Brotherhood finds out that I didn’t die. They’ve got a vampire child <em>and </em>a werewolf! <em>Vampires and werewolves</em>, Lydia!” As she let out her concerns, Freyja approached a weapon rack and picked up two daggers. She then tested the weight and how easily they cut through the air, and kept the heavier of the two. “Not to mention that I believe that the poison that was used has somehow tampered with my magicka, I can’t even cast a simple destruction or healing spell.”</p>
<p>“I understand your concern, my thane… But please know that you will have people with you from now on. I am not leaving your side until this war is over, and from what I have seen, Jarl Ulfric may be of the same mindset himself, he seems to be quite attached to you at the moment… Almost as though you are both-”</p>
<p>Freyja let out a loud sigh, and blankly stared at Lydia. “<em>Don’t </em>say it. I’ve already had this conversation with Galmar almost two weeks ago, and even Jorleif has muttered about it too. I’m not courting Ulfric, we’re not sleeping together, et cetera, et cetera,” she grumbled, before slowly moving into a position ready to attack one of the training dummies with the dagger in her hands. “Besides, something like that could alert the Dark Brotherhood that I didn’t die, and they will return in force.”</p>
<p>No more was said on that topic as she began to practice using the dagger and getting used to its weight in her hands. Every once in a while she would have to stop, which would be when Lydia would offer a potion to ease the pain of her healing injury. By now, it was beginning to scar over, though she couldn’t do anything too strenuous so that it wouldn’t re-open.</p>
<p>One thing did bring the Dragonborn some comfort as she trained with her housecarl though – as many soldiers were absent, at present fighting to take control of Hjaalmarch and Morthal, very few could see her in her current state. She did not want to be seen as weak or in need of protection to those who did not know of the circumstances surrounding her injuries.</p>
<p>After a further half-hour of training, Freyja had to take a moment to sit down. During this time, Lydia returned indoors to get them both a drink, whilst she caught her breath.</p>
<p>As she waited, she began to hear voices from nearby which put her on edge. She was quite used to the current silence of the Palace, and of Windhelm in general, and was caught by surprise by it.</p>
<p>Then, Lydia returned, nothing in her hands.</p>
<p>“My thane, I think that you need to see and hear this…”</p>
<p>In confusion, she followed her housecarl back into the palace, but was quick to put the pieces together. The increase in noise, the way in which Lydia was reacting…</p>
<p>“Hjaalmarch belongs to the Stormcloaks! Tonight we shall celebrate our victory, for we are now on the Empire’s doorstep!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Privacy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ulfric, I don’t deserve to join the celebrations. I didn’t participate in any of the battles to take Hjaalmarch and Morthal, and was here instead!” That evening, in Freyja’s room, a small argument was taking place between the Dragonborn and the Jarl. Ulfric was trying to get her to attend the celebration taking place in the halls below, Freyja was insistent that she shouldn’t.</p>
<p>As she tried to push him slightly, just enough to turn him around or at least make him step back out of the room, he took hold of her wrists and shook his head. “I am not taking no as an answer. You do know that many of our soldiers joined because <em>you </em>are in our ranks? That many of our men are losing morale in spite of their victory because they believe that you died at the hands of the Dark Brotherhood?”</p>
<p>Her eyes widened, though that was followed by a tired laugh. “’<em>Our’? </em>You make it sound as though I play just as much an important part in running the Stormcloaks as you, and you are the namesake of this army! I’m just a soldier-“ She was trying to pull her arms free as she spoke, but was cut off by his grasp tightening and his voice.</p>
<p>She ended up with her back against the wall, a fierceness she recalled seeing back in Helgen in his eyes. “If not for you, we would not have eight holds under Stormcloak control, let alone the likes of Whiterun. We were at a stalemate until you joined. You are the fuel which keeps the sons and daughters of Skyrim fighting just as much as I!”</p>
<p>“There’s no need to yell, Ulfric. I just… don’t see it that way,” she explained, closing her eyes as she felt his grasp loosen. In turn, she relaxed and continued what she was saying. “I’m a sol- well, <em>technically </em>an officer in the army, but even then, there are many others who hold the same position. Galmar, for example – he’s supported you from the start. Or Ralof, he’s been part of your personal guard for years! I’ve been with the Stormcloaks for… little over a year, perhaps? However long it has been since I fought Alduin, really…”</p>
<p>Ulfric sighed, and shook his head. “Freyja. I will not permit you to continue dismissing your immense contributions to liberating Skyrim from the Empire. Look, I…” Once more, he sighed as he finally let go of her. “Attend the celebrations. Raise the morale of the soldiers. You may not have fought to liberate Hjaalmarch, but you are still one of us. You do not even need to leave my side if you so wish.”</p>
<p>For a few moments, she was silent as she folded her arms over in front of her, and tried to think. She wasn’t too sure about going into a crowd of no doubt drunken Stormcloaks, but even so… It seemed that Ulfric was not going to change his mind about her attending. “Fine… But if I wish to leave to rest, please let me do so. I may be back to training, but I still tire easily as I recover.”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes at the triumphant smile on his face as he began to lead her from her room towards the hall where the other Stormcloaks present for the celebrations were.</p>
<p>As the noise of the crowd grew louder, she began to feel her heart racing. Something like this would be a prime opportunity for the Dark Brotherhood to strike if they had found out that she had survived, but even then, she knew that she could not remain in hiding forever – she had sworn an oath that she would fight for Ulfric, the Stormcloaks, and Skyrim. She would eventually be battling once again, and hopefully it would be in one of those moments that she would die. She already knew that those in Sovngarde would welcome her with open arms whenever she did meet her end, they had said so themselves when she travelled there to fight Alduin, but… she didn’t want her death to be because of assassins.</p>
<p>Eventually, the smell of mead and food reached her, and her shoulders lowered as she felt more relaxed. As much as she did not want to be completely surrounded, she did feel comfort. It was… homely. She knew that she belonged there.</p>
<p>Perhaps she would have to thank Ulfric for talking to her about attending, rather than staying in her room.</p>
<p>“Ah, finally! Here they are! Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, future High King of Skyrim, and the very much alive Dragonborn!”</p>
<p>Freyja let out an irritated sigh when Galmar announced their presence, and straight away decided that she was in fact not going to thank Ulfric. She did, however, now have a question for him. “Can I shout at him to get him to shut up?”</p>
<p>Ulfric let off a booming laugh, and shook his head. “Hah, as much as I would love to let you, Galmar has asked for me to stop you from doing that again.”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes for the second time in minutes at the response she had received, though before she could do anything more, she spotted some unopen bottles of mead on some of the tables. “I am going to get a drink. Haven’t had any mead since before we reclaimed Markarth and The Reach… Are you having any?”</p>
<p>“Hmm, I don’t see why not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Either I’ve drank too much and I’m losing my balance… or the ground just shook. Maybe both…” It was about two hours into the celebrations, and stood near to the throne in the Palace was Freyja, Ulfric, Galmar, and Jorleif, who may or may not have had a good few bottles of mead and ale between them, and were talking about how good it was that they were so close to marching upon Solitude and ending the civil war.</p>
<p>“Hah, I never expected that the Dragonborn wouldn’t be able to hold her dri-!” Galmar was laughing at what she had just remarked, and stopped mid-sentence when yet again, there was another quake which cut him off. “Damn, maybe I am getting too old to hold <em>my-</em>“</p>
<p>“Dragon!”</p>
<p>Upon the worried yell from soldiers near the doors about the dragon which was currently attacking the streets of Windhelm, Ulfric straight away looked at Freyja, who appeared to be slightly trembling.</p>
<p>“I… I have to help…” she whispered, placing her half-drank alcohol on the closest ledge to her. “I can barely spar with Lydia, but I need to help out… I can still shout. Even if it’s just getting it down onto the ground so that others can fight it.”</p>
<p>“That’s the spirit.” Ulfric patted at her shoulder as he retrieved his sword (which had been conveniently placed nearby, something which she intended to ask him about later) before gesturing for her to follow him outdoors.</p>
<p>By the point that they had left the doors with Galmar, a large gust from the attacking dragon’s wings almost knocked the three of them over. Freyja had to grab hold of a wall to keep herself upright, then glared in the dragon’s direction.</p>
<p>Once it was further away, focussing on a group of soldiers who were firing arrows at it, she turned to face Ulfric with a frown. “I’m going to use the Dragonrend shout. I don’t know if I will be able to use all of the words of power, but it should ground the dragon long enough that blades and any other close-combat weapons can deal a decent amount of damage. It’s the best I can do until I am fully prepared for battle again.”</p>
<p>“That is good enough for us, Freyja. Anything to protect Windhelm from the dragons is welcome.”</p>
<p>She then nodded, took a deep breath, and looked at the dragon. It seemed to have noticed her preparing to shout, and was now flying in her direction. Seeing it prepared to use its fire breath made her gulp, but she braced herself anyway.</p>
<p>Before the dragon could shout at her, another shout stopped it in its tracks. Ulfric had used his own Thu’um to stagger it in order to give her an opening.</p>
<p>“Freyja! Now!”</p>
<p>Nodding at the Jarl, she used the Dragonrend shout in the dragon’s direction. It let out a loud yell of pain and horror as it proceeded to stumble out of the sky, and crashed down just behind Candleheath Hall.</p>
<p>She let out a small sigh as she leaned back against the doors of the Palace of the Kings as tiredness overtook her. She remained there as she watched the Stomcloak soldiers fight against the dragon, who was struggling greatly as it tried to deal with the effects of her shout. She almost felt sorry for it, but at the same time, it had threatened an entire city which currently meant an awful lot to her, and she couldn’t stand for that.</p>
<p>Finally, she saw the dragon slump down onto the ground, and its flesh come away from its body as it usually would do when she had fought others before she absorbed its soul. She hadn’t felt this much adrenaline from something in a good while.</p>
<p>In the aftermath of the dragon attack, rather than the continuation of celebrating the victory in Hjaalmarch, a clean-up operation was in place to remove the dragon bones from the city and to make sure that none of the citizens were harmed during the attack. There were also a few fallen soldiers as a consequence of the attack, most of which being the archers who had initially been fighting the dragon before Freyja’s intervention with her Thu’um, so they were also having to be taken to the Hall of the Dead to be identified.</p>
<p>During this, Ulfric had addressed the people of Windhelm, reassuring them that should another dragon attack, it would be handled as swiftly as that one, and that with the Dragonborn on their side, they had no need to fear.</p>
<p>Freyja had been a bit antsy with him announcing to the entirety of Windhelm that she was alive, as many of the people of the city had seen her staggering around and bleeding out after the Dark Brotherhood attack, and had presumed that she had died afterwards. Now that the people knew, they would talk. It would not be long before all of Skyrim knew… Including whoever did the Black Sacrament, as well as the Dark Brotherhood.</p>
<p>The first thing that she did after re-entering the Palace was go straight to where she had placed her earlier drink and finish that off. She was the only person there at that time (aside from Jorleif and some of the palace’s staff, who were cleaning up after the celebrations), so she did feel more comfort than when outside.</p>
<p>What she wasn’t expecting was to feel a hand on her shoulder as she placed the empty bottle down.</p>
<p>“Freyja. So this is where you went off to after I had to address the citizens…”</p>
<p>She bit her lip as she kept her back turned to the Jarl. “I… I had to get out of the spotlight. I’ve not had this much attention on me since I was fighting in The Reach, and I was there… By the Nine, was it a month ago now? I’m not too sure. But I’m worried that the Dark Brotherhood will soon come back to finish the job.” A small sigh escaped her lips as she then turned to face Ulfric. “I’ve not felt this uneasy since that day I woke up in the cart on our way to Helgen.”</p>
<p>“The Dark Brotherhood will not get you. I assure you of that. Once this war is over, they are my top priority to have… removed from Skyrim. I will not allow them to so much as enter the same room as you, not if I have anything to do with it.”</p>
<p>“Ulfric… They’re big promises. Promises which would only work if we were together at all times, and I doubt that would be possible given the war, our priorities… the fact that dragons are still about, and can only be permanently dealt with if I’m present…”</p>
<p>A loud yelp escaped her lips as, for the second time that night, she found herself backed against the wall as Ulfric held onto her wrists. He then leaned into her ear, and spoke quiet enough that nobody nearby could hear what he was saying to her. “Then you understand what I want.”</p>
<p>She looked at him with wide eyes, and bit her lip. “You <em>want </em>us to be together at all times? But… Don’t you remember what Galmar was saying a few weeks ago?! That would look as though we are-!”</p>
<p>“Perhaps Galmar knew what I wanted before even I did.”</p>
<p>Her voice now dropped down to a whisper, though she was frantic as she spoke. “Are you drunk? Because if you are, I would much rather have this conversation sober…”</p>
<p>“No, I am not drunk,” he stated, taking a small step back as he could see that she needed some space to think about what he had said. “And I know what I want. But this is not a matter of what I want, this is about what <em>you </em>want, Freyja, it is your life that is in danger. Whether you want me by your side, or a trusted soldier or two in addition to your housecarl, I shall accept whatever you want.”</p>
<p>Silently, she could only stare at him, trying to process exactly what he was suggesting. “Ulfric… You already have enough targets on your back, being leader of the Stormcloaks. You’re just adding another if you decide that you want to protect me.”</p>
<p>“Then as I said, I can arrange for soldiers to-“</p>
<p>Shaking her head, she spoke once more. “I wasn’t saying that I am turning down your offer. But… I want to make sure of a few things in advance before I take you up on it, as… it would be an honour to be by your side, Ulfric. You are definitely not drunk?”</p>
<p>Ulfric chuckled as he moved his arms away from her. “I stopped after the bottle of mead that you gave to me.”</p>
<p>“Okay, and… You aren’t doing this for any sort of political leverage, are you?”</p>
<p>“Of course not. If I wanted any sort of ‘political’ relationship, I would have chosen Elisif, though I cannot stand the woman or her beliefs. You are a true Nord; a strong, admirable woman, and one of the few who I appreciate the company of.”</p>
<p>“Right… and my last question… How long have you known about how… about how you’ve felt?”</p>
<p>“Since the night following Galmar saying it looked as though I had taken you as my woman. I realised then that I would much prefer things if that were the case. That perhaps, I should have said as much after you shouted at him to back off. That if there were anyone I would not mind having as my queen once Skyrim is liberated from the Empire, it is you,” he stated, his head now resting against hers. “And what made you change your mind since then?”</p>
<p>Freyja looked up at him, her face a light shade of pink. “Well, um… It’s been a gradual thing… You’ve treated me more like a person than any other Jarls, you actually call me by my name… You’ve even allowed me to intrude upon your home as I heal after what the Dark Brotherhood did. I feel as though at least one person in Skyrim appreciated me even whilst I am currently incapable of doing all that I used to be able to do…” She then bit her lip, and glanced away. “Not to mention that I’ve been having to put up with teasing from Lydia who says very similar things to what Galmar said that day, because to her, it looked as though we already were together…”</p>
<p>“Then perhaps we should stop with the denial, Freyja.”</p>
<p>“Aye, Ulfric. Perhaps we should.”</p>
<p>Their conversation ended with a brief kiss, which would have been longer if not for the sound of cackling laughter from near to the doors into the palace, and housecarls of the pair giving them a look as if to say, ‘we knew it’. As for when Lydia got there, neither of them knew, putting it down to her appearing to help at some point during the dragon attack.</p>
<p>Ulfric scowled at both Lydia and Galmar, before taking hold of Freyja’s hand and pulling her away. He was muttering under his breath about how he was going to have a word with them both the next morning.</p>
<p>What caught Freyja by surprise though, was that Ulfric ended up walking past the room which she was staying in, and instead continued up a further set of stairs towards a room at the end of the hallway. She was quick to realise that this was his room, and somehow that made her feel more flustered than when they were caught kissing.</p>
<p>Once the door was shut, the pair simply looked at each other, unsure of what to say or do. It was one of the few times that the Dragonborn had seen the Jarl uncertain about anything.</p>
<p>“So, um...” In an attempt to break the awkward silence, Freyja asked a question. “What now?”</p>
<p>“Certainly not leaving this room,” he muttered, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. “No doubt Galmar has some sort of bet with your housecarl regarding us, and leaving is just fuel to the fire. And the man loves to be owed a drink…”</p>
<p>Freyja nodded, in full agreement over what he had said. “Then if we are staying in here, could we at least heat the room up? It’s surprisingly cold… Though these clothes I am wearing are no doubt not helping.” She looked down, and frowned. She was just wearing a simple dress which Lydia had brought for her from her home in Whiterun. It was far from suitable for the conditions in Windhelm, at least when not in the vicinity of a fireplace.</p>
<p>Much to her surprise, she felt the warm furs which had been over Ulfric’s shoulders placed around her own, as the Jarl went to light the hearth in the room. A small smile crept onto her face as she pulled the fabric tightly around herself. “Keep that with you until you are warm enough. The fireplace would have been lit earlier, if not for the dragon attack,” he said as he heard her sigh quietly.</p>
<p>Once the first flickers of a flame appeared on the firewood, he backed away from the fireplace before approaching her, and pulling her close to him in an embrace. “Now… We should continue from where we were interrupted, seeming as we have the privacy to do so. I have every intention of showing you what life will be like once we are High King and Queen of Skyrim…”</p>
<p>For the second time, they were caught up in a kiss. Freyja had to bring her hands up to rest against his chest as he pulled her body closer to his, just to stabilise herself. She could feel the strength and roughness in his grasp and the force within the kiss, clearly not too used to such gestures (then again, neither was she), but could feel the emotion as clear as day.</p>
<p>There was a slight glow on their faces when they pulled apart to breathe, the light from the fireplace now being strong enough to fill the room. Unfortunately, there was still not much heat, but enough to make the chill feel much less harsh than it previously had been when they arrived. Even so, Freyja shivered as she rested her head on his shoulder. “We could be royalty, or we could be the poorest of people living on the streets… kiss me like that, and I will be happy. You’ve treated me better than almost everyone I’ve encountered since Helgen. <em>Especially </em>since I found out that I was Dragonborn…”</p>
<p>“You may be Dragonborn… But that does not mean that you do not deserve to be treated with respect or as a person. You are still a Nord, not some sort of tool for people to use when they see fit.”</p>
<p>Freyja felt tears slip down her cheeks at his words before her eyes widened in realisation at what he had just said.</p>
<p>
  <em>Not some sort of tool for people to use when they see fit…</em>
</p>
<p>“Ulfric… I feel that I may know who carried out the Black Sacrament. Who sent the Dark Brotherhood after me…”</p>
<p>At first, she had theorised that it could have been somebody from the Empire, who thought that she was getting too involved in the civil war on behalf of the Stormcloaks. That, or one of the Thalmor, such as Elenwen, because she was a ‘dangerous person’ who was associating with another person they considered a threat.</p>
<p>But no… Now that she thought more about it, when taking into consideration what Ulfric had said… There was someone who thought of her as a weapon. A weapon with but one purpose – killing the dragons. Yet she had allowed some to live, such as Paarthurnaax and Odahviing. And there was someone who had judged her greatly on that decision, to the point that they had almost fought.</p>
<p>“Who is it? Tell me, so that I can-“</p>
<p>“There isn’t any solid proof of whether it is this person, but…” She took a deep, shaky breath as Ulfric brought her over to the bed to sit down. “What you said… reminded me of this person. She used me… like a tool, a weapon. We butted heads over my decision to not kill two dragons who helped immensely when I prepared to fight Alduin. I wouldn’t put it past her deciding as a result that I am not fulfilling my ‘duties’ as Dragonborn… and that I would have to be removed from the picture.”</p>
<p>Slowly, her hand moved across to rest where she had been stabbed by the woman from the Dark Brotherhood. Just thinking about a likely person who could have asked for that to have been done to her was enough for it to feel as though the healing wound was throbbing, though she had no doubt it was a mental thing rather than a physical.</p>
<p>Soon enough, she groaned and ran her hands down her face. “By the Nine, this is too stressful for me to think about right now… we should talk about something else.”</p>
<p>“If you insist. Are you feeling any warmer now?”</p>
<p>A slight smile crept onto her face as she leaned against him. “Much warmer… Especially with your arm around me,” she chuckled, feeling him tighten his hold of her in response. “If anything, I may be getting too warm now…”</p>
<p>“Then perhaps you should take off those furs of mine that I gave you earlier.” As he made his suggestion, she raised an eyebrow. “Or I could take it off you.”</p>
<p>Finally, Freyja laughed quietly as she closed her eyes and leaned against him. “We’re already spending the night in your room, are you already taking things further by saying that you would undress me? How scandalous…”</p>
<p>“Is it truly a scandal if I am simply reclaiming an item of clothing which is my own?”</p>
<p>She playfully hit at his chest as she yawned. “For that… I’m keeping it on until the morning.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> - 23<sup>rd</sup> Frostfall, 4E 203 - </strong>
</p>
<p>The days following the Windhelm dragon attack were busy for everyone in the Stormcloaks, the Jarl and Dragonborn included. On top of preparations for the coming battles which would determine whether Skyrim would be fully controlled by them, there was also the matter of keeping Freyja safe from any further attempts on her life. Already, a suspicious letter had been sent to the Palace of the Kings, with just one sentence written upon it – <em>‘Sithis will embrace the Dragonborn in the void’, </em>a clear sign that the Dark Brotherhood were aware that she was alive.</p>
<p>During the final gathering of the Stormcloak Officers in the Palace of the Kings, alongside Ulfric, Galmar was running through the upcoming plans. “There’s a camp near to the Solitude stables where we will gather before the battle. We will distribute more detailed orders then, but we shall split our soldiers into groups and infiltrate the city from different locations, including from the docks and the main road leading into the city.” A map of Haafingar and Skyrim’s capital was spread out across the table, flags placed in the locations which had been mentioned. “Once all soldiers are in the city, our priority shall be Castle Dour, though we will also have a group of soldiers sent to the Blue Palace to retrieve Elisif and have her brought to where Ulfric, the Dragonborn, and myself shall be leading the charge against General Tullius. Victory is within our grasp!”</p>
<p>Ulfric nodded along, and leaned his chin on his closed fist. “Yes, that is the gist of our plans for the battle. We will also have some soldiers sent to monitor the Thalmor Embassy to keep them away from the battle, and other soldiers capturing Fort Hraggstad to prevent having Imperials attack us from behind. Over this next week, I want all available soldiers to begin to make their way to Solitude.” As he explained, he missed out one small detail – during this week, he and Freyja were also set to be going to Haafingar too. They would be leaving at an unspecified time and date that only the pair knew. Galmar was informed that they would be going there, but he didn’t know of the specifics. That was mostly for Freyja’s piece of mind, so that the Dark Brotherhood couldn’t pinpoint her exact location.</p>
<p>After a few moments of thinking over the concern, Ulfric straightened himself out and gave everyone in the room a wolfish grin as Freyja took hold of his hand under the table they were sat around. “This is it. I shall see you all on the battlefield in Haafingar, my fellow true sons and daughters of Skyrim.”</p>
<p>A loud cheer erupted in the room before everyone quickly dissipated to prepare for the coming days. The last ones to remain in the room were Ulfric, Freyja, and Galmar, though the latter had no intention to remain in there for much longer.</p>
<p>“Well then… I suppose that I should leave you two lovers alone just in case you want to have a little ‘private time’ in here before you both get ready to leave.”</p>
<p>Freyja’s face turned a vivid shade of red, and just as she opened her mouth, Ulfric’s hand quickly covered it. He was starting to pick up on a pattern with her (Galmar teasing, and her shouting ‘fus’ in response), though he had to admit he felt the temptation that time as he gritted his teeth.</p>
<p>“Now, what have I said about shouting at Galmar, Freyja?” he muttered, before glaring at his housecarl. “And Galmar, stop it. One of these days I will not stop her from using the full force of her Thu’um and you will regret it.”</p>
<p>Galmar chuckled as he turned around, and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. It was a good few moments after he was definitely gone that Ulfric removed his hand from Freyja’s mouth, and noticed that she was still red in the face.</p>
<p>Eventually, she let out a deep breath and sighed as she stood up. She then leaned with her back to the table as she folded her arms over and looked at where he was still sat beside her. “Do you think that will ever stop? Galmar’s teasing, I mean. He seems to think we are acting like animals in heat when alone. Not to mention he’s even getting those ideas into Lydia’s head too!” A small, exasperated chuckle left her lips as she closed her eyes, meaning that she didn’t notice Ulfric stand up and move to in front of her.</p>
<p>A gasp escaped her when she suddenly felt his hands on her waist. “I’ll have words with him once we are in Haafingar. He is leaving today, so we shall have peace until we get there,” he muttered, before he made a thoughtful noise. “I remember being told how you would wear your Stormcloak Officer’s armour with pride in battle, yet I have never seen you wear it before today. It suits you.”</p>
<p>Quietly she laughed as he ran his hands over the hides adorning her outfit. “I’ve only ever put these on just before a battle for the Stormcloaks, I’ve never gone around wearing it elsewhere because I would often have things to do for people in Imperial-controlled holds and wasn’t in the mood to be apprehended as a result. Now that I’ll be returning to battle, because Skyrim is predominantly Stormcloak-held, in addition to remaining by your side, I am able to wear it without worry,” she remarked, moving her hands towards his to take hold of them before they ventured too low. “You don’t want to go about proving Galmar right about his decision to leave us alone, do you?”</p>
<p>Ulfric smiled at her, pressed a brief kiss to her lips, then nodded. “Agreed. Now, we should prepare ourselves – we are leaving before first light tomorrow morning, after all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> - 24<sup>th</sup> Frostfall, 4E 203 - </strong>
</p>
<p>Freyja had found herself unable to sleep in the hours running up to the time that she and Ulfric were set to leave Windhelm, and as a result, decided to spend some time making sure that her axe was sharpened, and bow reinforced in advance. She was still unable to tap into her magicka, so she knew that she would have to be prepared with either of the weapons in a fight, whether it be against Imperials, the Thalmor, or the Dark Brotherhood.</p>
<p>In spite of taking her time with that, she still found herself restless and incapable of sleeping afterwards even as she lay in her bed trying to get comfortable.</p>
<p>Soon enough, she gave up on the attempt at sleeping, knowing full well that the coming journey to Solitude would tire her out enough to rest over the coming nights. After all, she had spent many a sleepless night as she travelled around Skyrim ever since the incident with Alduin in Helgen, one night now wouldn’t be too much of a bother to her (or so she hoped).</p>
<p>Instead, she decided to see if Ulfric was still awake. Pulling the cloak which he had recently acquired for her to keep her warm over her nightgown, she made her way down the hall towards his room. Though they were together, they had made the decision after that one night which they spent together to remain in their own rooms to sleep at least until the end of the war. Part of the reason was to hold back gossip (that which came from their housecarls notwithstanding), but also so that they wouldn’t give in to all sorts of temptations which could lead to… further consequences.</p>
<p>As she went to knock on his door however, she was quick to realise that even apart… they could still easily give in to <em>other </em>desires. Her hand was no more than an inch from the door when she heard the noises from his room, and she gulped. The grunts, the groans, and even her own name could be heard through the wood, and she felt her face heat up as she figured out just what exactly was happening.</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, she then rapped her knuckles against the door. She then waited a moment before calling out, as the room had fallen silent, so she knew that he had heard her. “Um… Ulfric, it’s Freyja…” Clearly, her presence must have come as a surprise, as she heard sudden thudding as though he had almost fallen out of bed. “You can take your time; I can wait for a few-“</p>
<p>She almost jumped out of her skin in fright as the door swing open and the Jarl appeared in the doorway looking just as dishevelled as she imagined he would be after… well… what he was doing. It appeared as though he had hastily pulled on some trousers once he realised it was her at the door.</p>
<p>He looked her up and down, before taking a deep breath and speaking. “Freyja.”</p>
<p>“Ulfric, I, ah… I’m sorry for disturbing you, I couldn’t sleep and was wondering whether you were awake too, but I… Well… It doesn’t take a genius to hear that you weren’t asleep either…” She muttered, watching as his eyes widened. “I… can go if you want some, um... privacy.”</p>
<p>His mouth opened as though he was going to respond to her, but instead he took hold of her wrist and pulled her into the room, closing the door behind them. Her eyes widened in shock when she then found herself backed against the door; her lips captured by his own.</p>
<p>She would have been lying to herself if she said that she couldn’t feel his erection through his hastily fastened trousers, nor the heat from his body.</p>
<p>“I… apologise. I was not expecting you here, not whilst I was…”</p>
<p>“Pleasuring yourself, yes, I… I heard,” she whispered, doing her best to avoid glancing downwards. “And… can feel. I can leave you be if you want me to…”</p>
<p>It seemed that her offer had possibly frustrated him, as his grasp of her wrist tightened. “Don’t. I would appreciate your company. Not to do anything, at least not without your consent, but just to rest. I have not been able to sleep either, because of your absence from my side.” His usually deep voice was quiet as he spoke.</p>
<p>To say that it didn’t stir something within her would also have been a lie.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Affirmation of love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All of a sudden, Freyja was beginning to feel that the decision to sleep in their separate rooms, at least during this final night that they would spend in Windhelm before what would hopefully be the end of the war, was possibly a bad idea.</p>
<p>Her silent response to his request to stay with him for came in the form of her bringing her free hand upward to rest upon his jaw, fingers stroking across his facial hair, as she leaned upward and pressed a kiss to his lips. As she did this, she felt him silently chuckle before he released his hold of her wrist and moved his hands to her hips.</p>
<p>Freyja couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as Ulfric began to move her away from the door, knowing full-well that she was most likely the only one to have had the honour of seeing this somewhat gentler, affectionate side of Eastmarch’s Jarl.</p>
<p>A quiet gasp escaped her lips as she ended up being pulled down onto the bed, landing on top of the man. She then gulped, and licked her lips which suddenly felt awfully dry. “I don’t think that I will be able to rest, Ulfric… Especially when I know what you were doing before I got here. Even more so now that I am in your bed with you.”</p>
<p>She found herself being pulled against his chest as he lay down, and she gave off a small whine when she felt one of his hands pull her hair aside to expose her neck, with his heated breath against the sensitive skin as he began to kiss and lightly bite at her throat.</p>
<p>“Is that so?”</p>
<p>A noise of affirmation left her lips as she felt him quietly chuckle. “I doubt I would be able to rest until you let me know what you were thinking of just before I knocked on your door.”</p>
<p>“Are you certain of that? What do you believe I was thinking of?”</p>
<p>“Clearly, you were thinking about me – I heard my name, so you cannot deny that.”</p>
<p>Ulfric leaned into her ear as he made a quiet noise indicating that he was smirking, before making her shriek as he changed their positions, so that she was now underneath and looking up at him. “Yes... Indeed I was. I was thinking of you... And that damn armour you were wearing yesterday. It was almost nothing on you. And it would have taken very little to remove...”</p>
<p>She made a noise which sounded like both a snort and a laugh at his remark. “And I wonder, just who decided that that particular armour had to be worn by officers in the Stormcloaks? Why, I believe that would be the leader, <em>Ulfric.</em>”</p>
<p>“Well… I think that there shall have to be… changes if you are to go into battle wearing that armour. But enough of that for now… There are… <em>other </em>priorities at present, don’t you agree, <em>Freyja</em>?” Before she could so much as come up with a response, she let out a gasp as she felt his teeth and lips against the junction between her neck and her jaw, it being clear that his intention was to leave a trail of marks across her skin, and to entice more reactions from her.</p>
<p>And that was ignoring his erection which had been present even before she had even entered the room, and was now pressing very prominently against her body.</p>
<p>She could feel her body growing hotter by the moment as Ulfric continued his relentless assault on her throat, to the point that she went to unfasten her cloak but found herself being stopped with a very distracting kiss to her lips.</p>
<p>“A king should be the one to disrobe his queen if he invites her to bed with him.”</p>
<p>Before Freyja could respond with the fact that he was not officially High King, and that she was not even officially his wife as of yet, she felt him chuckle as though he knew those were her thoughts. That was then followed by her cloak being unclasped, and the straps of her nightgown being pulled down her arms.</p>
<p>The way that Ulfric’s eyes glistened once her gown was pulled down enough to expose her breasts to the cold Windhelm night made her entire face flush a deep crimson. And no wonder… There she was, the last Dragonborn, a legend of Skyrim, looking dishevelled with her hair spread across the bed beneath her, blushing, neck covered in red marks and bites, chest heaving, and, what she presumed was quite the turn-on for Ulfric, an amulet of Talos resting on her bare skin.</p>
<p>She had forgotten that she had the amulet on, as she had hidden it beneath her nightgown, but now…</p>
<p>“You look divine, Freyja. Exquisite, even. Exactly as a queen should be…” he mumbled as she felt him jut against her, and one of his hands (by the divines, she hadn’t quite realised just how large his hands were) began to fondle one of her breasts.</p>
<p>She couldn’t stop herself from moaning at the ministrations and contact between their bodies, to the point that she had to pull her legs together due to the feeling which was building up lower down her body in addition to the wetness which was forming.</p>
<p>After what felt like a few minutes of continuing what they were doing, it seemed that Ulfric had enough of the trousers which he had pulled on earlier, and he moved his hands away from her chest solely for the purpose of unlacing them and pulling his hardened cock out. Freyja watched with curiosity as he did this, before catching him by surprise by reaching between them both to take hold of it.</p>
<p>He let out a startled groan, before grabbing hold of her hand and pulling it away. “No. This night will end too soon if you are to touch me like that. And I would much rather release myself inside you, than waste it upon your hands.”</p>
<p>A few surprised spluttered came from her then, her blush intensifying. Such a declaration… Well, it certainly conveyed just how important Ulfric considered this relationship, especially considering potential consequences to what he suggested – specifically a child. With the coming end of the war too… And the fact that before she was attacked by the Dark Brotherhood, she had been thinking about settling down once the war ended…</p>
<p>Perhaps it was all fate, for if she could believe in such a thing.</p>
<p>“I… would like for that too.”</p>
<p>Ulfric smiled at her as he released his hold of her hands and lowered them towards the bottom of her nightgown and pulled it up to her hips. He muttered something under his breath which sounded almost like a prayer to The Nine as his eyes focussed in on the apex between her legs.</p>
<p>In spite of her expecting it, she gasped in surprise and clamped her eyes shut when she felt him pulling one of her legs aside and his fingers making explorative, borderline probing touches across her sensitive opening. Her fingers dug into the furs beneath her as she heard him chuckle at her reaction.</p>
<p>“Then again… I believe no matter what we do, this night may end sooner than expected. Do I really make you so aroused, Freyja?”</p>
<p>A loud moan escaped her lips when she felt one of the fingers which had been teasing at the slickness between her legs intrude into her body, the sensation a little bit overwhelming due to the size of his hands. “Oh <em>fuck, </em>Ulfric…”</p>
<p>“Now now, we will get to that in a few moments… We can’t do this without the proper preparation.”</p>
<p>She wanted to hit him in response for his joking misinterpretation of her words, but that thought quickly faded away as he continued to finger her and leaned down to kiss her. That was when she removed her hands from the sheets and moved to behind him, nails digging into his skin between his shoulder blades with one hand, and tangled into his hair with the other.</p>
<p>Heat much more intense than that of the fireplace was being emitted from their bodies as words swiftly changed into moans and grunts, and the room began to be filled with a variety of noises through the contact between their bodies.</p>
<p>Just as the Dragonborn felt her entire body being wound up, on the verge of orgasm, his fingers withdrew from her, and she could only whine desperately as she looked up at the Jarl. He gave her a small whisper of reassurance as the fingers were quickly replaced with his cock. He started with a few gentle, teasing strokes across her opening and against her clit, before pressing into her slowly.</p>
<p>“You feel… perfect, my queen…” he whispered into her ear as he started with a few leisurely and small thrusts into her, progressing deeper with each one. “We were made for each other, I am certain…”</p>
<p>His hands came to rest on her hips when he finally fully sheathed into her with a groan, and she tightened her hold of him. She understood what he was getting at with his words as she tried to catch her breath though – it felt… <em>right </em>having him between her legs like this.</p>
<p>Freyja wrapped her legs around him as he began to set a pace with his thrusts, and the pair returned to their previous kiss.</p>
<p>In spite of how it may have sounded with the lustful noises surrounding the couple, there was no sort of roughness in any of the bodily contact between them. Though they were both fighters, weathered and scarred by the war and difficulties of life in Skyrim, there was nothing but gentle lovemaking.</p>
<p>Once more, Freyja found herself teetering on the edge of her release, and she had reason to believe that he was too as his pace grew erratic and he had pulled away from the kiss panting.</p>
<p>The next few moments were a blur to them both, neither being sure of who came first. Their first moments of clarity afterwards were when Ulfric pulled himself out of her, and moved to lie beside her. Both of them were flushed red as they tried to catch their breaths.</p>
<p>Then Freyja began to laugh quietly as she looked towards the window.</p>
<p>“Maybe we <em>should </em>have done this after the War Council yesterday…” She then closed her eyes, and reached out for his hand. “Maybe we would have slept properly, it’s almost time for us to leave for Haafingar, the sun is rising…”</p>
<p>Ulfric chuckled in response. “Or would we have been fucking like rabbits through the night?”</p>
<p>She blushed embarrassed at his words, and ran her hands down her face. “Maybe… But… We definitely should have done this sooner.” It was after this that she sat up, and adjusted her nightgown so that she was wearing properly once more. “For now though… We need to clean up and get ready to go.”</p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Ulfric smiled in satisfaction when he saw Freyja stood by the doors leading to his room once he had prepared for their journey. She had taken into account his mention of finding her usual Officer’s armour somewhat distracting, so was wearing her leather armour instead, but with the gloves and boots of the Officer’s armour. He also liked that she was still wearing her amulet of Talos, though was showing it with pride rather than concealing it under her clothes.</p>
<p>“Well… I have my usual travel essentials with me, and my axe… I’ve also wrote a letter for Lydia explaining that I will be going with you to Solitude and due to her lack of affiliation in the war, she does not need to come along, and to instead listen out for any discussions or incidents which indicate that the Dark Brotherhood are looking for me here in Windhelm…” Freyja began, before she brought her hand up to her face in thought. “Do we have a planned route through Skyrim?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I do have a route in mind… Though we must make haste. It will not be long before the residents of Windhelm are awake and carrying out their daily business, and all it will take is someone seeing us to potentially inform the Dark Brotherhood that you have left the safety of the Palace of the Kings.”</p>
<p>“But even then, I shall be with you. And personally, I feel much safer travelling alongside the Jarl of Eastmarch, leader of the Stormcloaks, future High King, and the one that I love,” she smiled, taking hold of his hand. “Well… Let’s go then. We have a war to win, Ulfric.”</p>
<p>That one conversation, as well as the time they had spent together in bed that night, affirmed but one thing for Ulfric.</p>
<p>He had made the correct decision to bring an amulet of Mara along with him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Voice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I did initially plan to have this story be four or five chapters long. However, after thinking and planning some more, I have come to realise that I wouldn't have much closure on the whole 'Dark Brotherhood after the Dragonborn' aspect, and that is a rather major part! As such, I have removed the number of chapters that this will have, at least whilst I figure out how long I want the fight against the Dark Brotherhood part to be.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>- 26th Frostfall, 4E 203 - </strong>
</p><p>“… Whiterun…” Freyja whispered as she looked at the city emerging in the distance, having just made her way past the bandit ridden Valtheim Towers with Ulfric. “I have a house there, you know… And just north of the city, I have another property in The Pale – it is currently just one room, but I have blueprints to expand upon it at some point…” She pointed in the direction of Heljarchen Hall, before humming quietly to herself. “It is getting quite late, perhaps we could take a break from setting up a camp like we have done over the past two days, and go somewhere with a hearth for a night?”</p><p>Ulfric thought over her proposal for a few moments, then frowned. “Who knows of your home in The Pale?”</p><p>“Jarl Skald the Elder, as he was the one who I acquired the lands of Heljarchen Hall from… The husband of Ralof’s sister, Hod, because I acquired some of the building materials from him… And Loreius, the owner of the farm just south, as he is more-or-less my neighbour.”</p><p>“Nobody else?”</p><p>“No. I should hope not, anyway.”</p><p>Much to Freyja’s surprise, Ulfric laced his hand with hers and smiled. “Then we shall go there. Most people in Whiterun likely know of your property in the city, and should the Dark Brotherhood decide to search for you there, they would be pointed in our direction.” She couldn’t have put it better herself - she was comfortable with the majority of the city’s residents (the Battle-Borns notwithstanding), and it was well known that she owned Breezehome even though Lydia was most often the one found in there.</p><p>The Dragonborn took the lead in the pair’s movements after this point, knowing her way through the plains and farms surrounding Whiterun almost by the back of her hand by that point. She ended up pointing out little things about their surroundings which she liked, and in a way, Ulfric found it quite endearing. In spite of the coming battle for Solitude, and the ever-present threat of assassins, this had been the happiest he had seen her since she was attacked.</p><p>She stopped walking after crossing over a bridge, and hummed quietly. “If you smell well enough, you can pick up hints of honey in the wind from Honningbrew Meadery. It’s personally not my <em>favourite </em>mead, but the smell is just wonderful…” she mused, before approaching the second bridge which was to their right and picking some of the flowers that she had caught sight of. “That, in combination with some of the flowers around here… It’s pleasant. I always liked travelling these roads if you ignore the wolves and occasional skeever.”</p><p>After she spent a few moments standing in silence taking in the surroundings which were being lit by the light of the setting sun, she continued leading towards Heljarchen Hall by crossing over the other bridge.</p><p>The next twenty minutes were spent with her telling more stories about things which had happened in and around Whiterun during her quest to defeat Alduin. Ulfric raised an eyebrow when she pointed out the Dragonsreach balcony which was just coming into view, and said that she and Balgruuf (back when he was Jarl, that is) captured a dragon there, before she flew on its back to go to Alduin’s entrance to Sovngarde. He decided to believe her when she said that if he wanted her to, she could shout for Odahviing to come to them simply so that the story could be corroborated by him.</p><p>Soon enough, they reached the point that they knew that they had entered The Pale, as they saw the hold’s banners on either side of the path.</p><p>“It’s not too much further now, Ulfric. We need to keep going up the path towards Loreius farm, which is located…” Freyja had her hand pointed out as she explained, though she lowered it when she tried to figure out just what exactly it was she could see in the distance. “… Just to the west of the… jester with the cart?”</p><p>Ulfric was just as confused as her when he saw what exactly she was talking about, further along the path. They both exchanged a look with one-another, and nodded. It was their way of saying that they would continue along the path and hopefully ignore the strange person, though to be prepared to fight if it was some sort of ambush.</p><p>Freyja decided that just in case, she would have her axe in her hands should she need to fight, as it could take vital seconds to remove it off her back where she could be protecting herself. However, her grasp slowly became uneasy the further down the road that they went.</p><p>She froze when she heard a nearby voice.</p><p>“Ulfric… Can you see a woman anywhere? I… I just heard a woman say my name…”</p><p>For a moment, Eastmarch’s Jarl frowned as he looked around and shook his head. “No. Perhaps you are tired and in need of rest?”</p><p>“Perhaps…”</p><p>Taking a deep breath, they continued onwards down the path, and she did everything that she could to ignore the whispers of her name by a woman which did not exist. Or at least a woman that she could not see.</p><p>A few more moments passed, and she started muttering. “Stop talking…”</p><p>From there, Freyja’s behaviour took a sudden turn. Her axe clattered to the ground as she clamped her hands over her ears, her eyes wide with panic and fear. “Shut up! Leave me be!” Her yell had almost been enough to startle Ulfric, but it seemed to have caught the attention of the strangely dressed man by the cart.</p><p>She crouched down as she applied even more force against her ears in a feeble attempt to ignore the voice speaking to her. “Stop talking! Just stop!”</p><p>“Freyja, calm down! We are almost to your home, and you are with me. You are safe.”</p><p>“The woman won’t stop talking to me though!” she panicked as Ulfric picked up her axe before taking hold of her arms to help her stand up straight once more. “She- She keeps saying the same thing over and over, and won’t stop… I don’t even know what that it means! I’ve had my fair share of voices in my head, but not like this!”</p><p>Ulfric frowned, but he could acknowledge that <em>something </em>was happening. For now though, the priority was getting to Heljarchen Hall before this voice which she was hearing made her snap completely.</p><p>Little did either of them know that the strange jester had heard every word exchanged between the two, and got out of their way as they walked past him and his broken cart.</p><p>“Hmm… Could it be, Mother? Have you finally chosen a listener, after all of these years…?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Freyja stared at the flames of the small fire pit set up in the middle of the room as she sat on her bed with furs wrapped around her. Not long after hers and Ulfric’s arrival at her house, the voice had finally stopped talking to her, though she was still trying to make sense of it all.</p><p>She recalled the voice mentioning Falkreath, and a sanctuary to the south. And found herself being called her ‘listener’. She did not know what was meant by that, but there was one thing which she did recognise from what was said… The voice mentioned ‘Sithis’, and ‘the void’.</p><p>The Dark Brotherhood threatened her with a note mentioning those two things.</p><p>
  <em>‘Sithis will embrace the Dragonborn in the void.’</em>
</p><p>From that, she could only assume that the voice she had heard had ties to the Dark Brotherhood.</p><p>“After the battle for Solitude…” Freyja broke the fragile silence as she glanced at Ulfric, who had just finished eating. “Should we both live, I fully intend to investigate the Dark Brotherhood, and if I can… destroy them. Some of what that voice said to me… It matches things which they said to me in that weirdly phrased threat that they sent to me in Windhelm. I think they’re tied together, and that I will get my answers of what all of <em>that</em> was if the brotherhood is taken down.”</p><p>Ulfric rose from his seat as he looked at her with a frown. He was concerned about her declaration, and he did not wish for her to end up dead before he even had the chance to ask for her hand. After the battle, he was intending to officially ask for her to become his bride – in front of the entirety of the Stormcloaks and Solitude, if need be – and to take her to Riften to be wed even before they returned to Windhelm. Her plans for after the battle were… reckless and vastly different - not that she knew of his plans yet. “We have no leads on their whereabouts, Freyja. And it is unwise for the Dragonborn, whose life is already being threatened, to rush head-first into trying to find the Dark Brotherhood who wills her dead.”</p><p>She too stood up from where she was on the bed, keeping the furs over her shoulders as she approached him. He pulled her close, and rested his chin atop her head as she spoke once more. “Aye, I am aware that it is unwise… But you are wrong about not having leads,” she explained, before she wrapped her arms about his waist. “My first point of call is a place known as Sky Haven Temple, in The Reach. There is a woman there who I wish to speak to, as she is my primary suspect on being the one who carried out the Black Sacrament. If she is the one, I can try to find out information about the Dark Brotherhood from her. If not…” A shaky breath escaped her as her fingers dug into his cloak. “The strange voice did mention a few things which I can investigate. A place just south of Falkreath, apparently a ‘sanctuary’…”</p><p>Remaining silent as he listened to her plans, Ulfric could pick up on both the fear and determination in her voice. She was set upon removing the Dark Brotherhood, and it seemed that she had absolutely no intention of changing her mind.</p><p><em>''So be it',</em> he mused, before moving one of his hands upward to stroke through her hair, occasionally stopping to feel the braids which she had hidden throughout. “Then once the battle has concluded, we shall summon your Housecarl to Solitude, and we, alongside Galmar, shall join you in your quest to remove the Dark Brotherhood from Skyrim.”</p><p>Freyja tensed up, and took a slight step backward as she moved her hands to his chest and looked up at him. “Ulfric… No. I can’t be having others put themselves at risk because of me!”</p><p>“The Dark Brotherhood is a threat to both you and the people of Skyrim. It is beneficial to everyone having them removed. And I…” He pursed his lips together into a frown. “I have almost lost you once to those criminals. It was… painful, seeing you having to fight off death itself in the weeks following. I prayed to The Nine each day, in the hopes that you would eventually wake up. I will not have you actively seeking them out without me – and our housecarls - by your side to keep you safe,” he stated, pulling her close to him once more. “Promise me, Freyja. Promise me that you will not put yourself in harm’s way without us.”</p><p>She settled down at the calm yet concerned tones of his voice, and brought her head to rest against him once more. “I… I promise.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Ending a war</h2></a>
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    <p>
  <strong>- 30<sup>th</sup> Frostfall, 4E 203 -</strong>
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<p>Ever since the incident where she had heard the voice calling her a ‘listener’, Freyja had done everything possible to get it off her mind. As they moved through Morthal, she had started telling Ulfric of her adventures after finding out that she was Dragonborn, in particular about her journey through the ruins of Ustengrav in order to get an item for the Greybeards, just to find out that it had been stolen by the person who was currently her number one suspect of being the one who had carried out the Black Sacrement.</p>
<p>Fortunately, the battle which took place on the streets of Solitude had been a good distraction for her. Each of the Empire’s soldiers which she cut down was a reminder to herself that she was not just fighting for herself, but that she was fighting for Skyrim. For Ulfric.</p>
<p>Once it came to confronting Tullius, however, she found herself thinking about that situation once more. As such, she decided that there and then, she would only allow herself to think about protecting Ulfric.</p>
<p>That had led to her fighting Rikke, who was trying to protect Tullius… but the general had now all but given up.</p>
<p>Freyja gritted her teeth as she brought her axe up to deflect a blow going directly towards Ulfric from Rikke, wanting to do everything possible to keep him safe as these final battles brought the civil war to its end. Galmar shot her a confused look, as if to ask why she was doing his job for him, but verbally did not question her actions.</p>
<p>However, he did take the opportunity from her to land the finishing blow on the Legate, whose final words were a prayer to Talos and a whisper of Sovngarde as she fell down to the ground.</p>
<p>The fall of Rikke was the push to get Tullius to lift his sword, though before either one of Freyja or Galmar could cross blades with him, they both felt hands on their shoulders as they were pulled back. Ulfric wanted neither of them to have the general’s blood on their weapons, and had decided that it would be fair for the leader of the Stormcloaks to face the general of the Empire in combat.</p>
<p>“He will be fine. I can see it in your face that you are worried, but you can relax,” Galmar whispered as he pulled the reluctant Freyja back. “Tullius is cowardly. He doesn’t want to fight Ulfric. At least the boy-king put up something of a fight before fell.”</p>
<p>She smiled slightly at his words of reassurance, before closing her eyes as she tried not to look at the fight. “It’s not Ulfric I am worried about; he can handle himself… What I fear… is what is to come after. He <em>has </em>told you that before we return to Windhelm that we are going to hunt the Dark Brotherhood down, right?”</p>
<p>“Eh? That is-“</p>
<p>“Enough… enough…”</p>
<p>The pair turned towards where Ulfric and Tullius had been fighting, and noticed that the general was on his knees on the ground, weapon discarded, and Ulfric stood over him.</p>
<p>Freyja pursed her lips together in an attempt to hold back a smile – she had looked forward to the fall of Tullius ever since he wrongfully captured her and sentenced her to death, assuming that she was a Stormcloak. Little would he know that the happenings of Helgen would have been the final push for her to sign up as one of them, eventually to become the lover of Ulfric himself.</p>
<p>She returned to reality when she heard herself be spoken about by Galmar, who was now by Ulfric’s side once more.</p>
<p>“By the gods! If it's a good ending to some damn story you're after, perhaps the Dragonborn should be the one to do it.”</p>
<p>With a quiet grumble, she walked over to the men who were stood by the weakened general, and looked at Ulfric, who gave her a faint smile.</p>
<p>“Freyja, would you like the honour of being the one to bring this war to a close?”</p>
<p>It took a moment for it to sink in that she was being asked as to whether she wanted to be the one who killed Tullius. That was something she had dreamed of ever since the moment her head had touched the chopping block, but now that she had the opportunity… she did not know what to do.</p>
<p>Instead of giving an answer, she took hold of her axe, approached the general, and lifted his head so that he was looking at her. She knew an easy enough way to decide as to whether she or Ulfric would make the killing blow.</p>
<p>“General Tullius. Before you meet your end, I have but one question. Many weeks ago, I was attacked by the Dark Brotherhood, conveniently after I played a role in liberating Markarth from the Empire’s clutches. Was it you, or any of your men, who carried out the Black Sacrament? Or do you know of who?”</p>
<p>He looked up at her with confusion, pure and simple. “We received information that you had been gravely wounded, Dragonborn… but not that it was the Dark Brotherhood. And we do not condone such criminal methods of killing those who oppose the Empire…”</p>
<p>She made up her mind.</p>
<p>Withdrawing her axe, and returning it to behind her back, she turned around and looked away from Tullius.</p>
<p>“The honour is all yours, Ulfric.”</p>
<p>Had he known anything about the attack, she would have easily cut him down. But she was growing tired of the bloodshed. She had played her part in ending the civil war, and now she had her own private war to handle.</p>
<p>A wince spread across her face as the noise of a decapitation occurred behind her before she took a deep breath. It was over. The civil war was over. She brought her hand up to her amulet of Talos, and silently gave her thanks to the nine divines for allowing her to live after the attack to see this day.</p>
<p>She never heard the conversation which occurred between Ulfric and Galmar, nor did she see the housecarl leave Castle Dour in order to gather the Stormcloak soldiers and Jarl Elisif in order to hear of the army’s victory. She only became aware of Galmar’s absence by the fact that she felt her axe be removed and placed aside, and Ulfric embracing her from behind, with his lips coming to rest upon her throat.</p>
<p>“This is a victory worthy of celebration, Freyja…” he mumbled into her skin as her arms came to rest upon his own. “Perhaps, whilst Galmar gathers our men… we have a private celebration of our own, hm?”</p>
<p>Freyja blushed as she picked up on the lustful undertones of his voice, before unconsciously tilting her head to the side to expose more of her throat to his lips. “What… do you have in mind…?”</p>
<p>Ulfric chuckled, and she felt the vibrations of his chest against her back as he pulled her closer to his body. “Take a guess.”</p>
<p>“Well… As long as we can move away from… You know…” She turned around in his arms, and gestured towards the two bodies which were lying nearby with her shoulder. She then looked up at him, and raised her eyebrow. “Um… Before we do… Ulfric, since when did you revere Mara over Talos? I would have expected you to be wearing an amulet of Talos, seeming as we have been fighting for…” Her voice trailed off when she reached up to touch the amulet which he had around his neck, realisation sinking in about the significance. “You’re… You’re proposing to me.”</p>
<p>Before Ulfric could confirm what she had observed, she had brought her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He groaned against her lips, her body pressing against his in all the right places that he could feel himself growing hard. “So… Is that a yes?” he whispered during the moment she pulled away for breath.</p>
<p>“Of course…”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Galmar sighed as he waited in the Castle Dour courtyard with not just the other Stormcloak soldiers, but also a group of Solitude’s citizens and Jarl Elisif herself. They were all gathered, as per Ulfric’s orders, in order to hear his speech about the Stormcloaks’ victory. However, there happened to be two key members of the army missing – namely Ulfric himself, and the Dragonborn.</p>
<p>He, for one, had a pretty good idea as to what was happening inside the castle. He’d seen the looks, he’d heard the conversations, he <em>knew </em>them both. If Lydia had been there, he would likely have been placing bets with her that the pair were fucking without so much as a care about the people waiting out here for them.</p>
<p>Whispers between the soldiers could be overheard, talking of what could be taking so long. Could there have been an ambush waiting for Ulfric after General Tullius was defeated? Was the Dragonborn actually a traitor? Were they even in the castle? Galmar could only laugh at how far from true those suggestions were.</p>
<p>After a further few minutes of waiting, the absent pair finally emerged from the doors, and when they both looked at him, Galmar raised his eyebrow. They were somewhat more dishevelled than they were when he left, holding hands, and she just so happened to have a distinct red mark on her throat which stood out massively compared to the tone of her skin and her hair.</p>
<p>
  <em>He was absolutely certain that they had been having sex in there.</em>
</p>
<p>Giving them a knowing look, he turned around to everyone present, and drew their attention towards Ulfric for his victory speech.</p>
<p>. . .</p>
<p>All in all, things had run smoothly as Ulfric addressed the people. They cheered as they were addressed as heroes, who fought for Skyrim and its traditions. But there was one part which not even Galmar was expecting, when he was talking about the moot, and the decision of who takes on the mantle of High King. It was just one sentence, but it was enough to result in a series of cheers, shouts, and chatter.</p>
<p>“Should it be that the moot decides I shall become High King when it does meet, the burdens shall not fall upon me alone, for I shall have the Dragonborn, Freyja, as both my wife and my Queen.”</p>
<p>And to top it all off, he ended his speech by moving his arm around Freyja’s waist, and leaned down to give her a chaste kiss.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nobody noticed that there was a small, uninvited group looking over the speech from the Temple of the Divines. And their eyes were directly upon the couple.</p>
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